


you're the missing piece i need (the song inside of me)

by basementhero



Series: you're the voice i hear inside my head [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Famous Harry, M/M, Non-Famous Niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 13:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5786407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basementhero/pseuds/basementhero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>from the soulmate AU: if a song is stuck in your head, it's because your soulmate is singing it wherever they are</p>
<p>Niall doesn't expect to hear a familiar song on the radio, nor does he expect his soulmate to apparently be rising pop star, Harry Styles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're the missing piece i need (the song inside of me)

**Author's Note:**

> title unashamedly from Camp Rock's "Gotta Find You"

The problem with Niall’s soulmate is that they sing a lot of songs he’s never heard of--songs he doesn’t really _want_ to have stuck in his head. Sometimes it gets to the point where he has to consider whether or not he needs to be concerned about his soulmate’s tastes. Of course, much to the relief of those destined to be with people who perform in frequent concerts or musical theater productions or people who have to sing every time they need to know what letter of the alphabet comes next, not _every_ song someone sings makes it into their soulmate’s head; even still, it’s rare for a day to go by where Niall doesn’t find himself thinking of a song he’s not responsible for putting into his brain. It works both ways, though, so Niall’s going to have to apologize for his slight Justin Bieber obsession when he finally meets the poor person who must have been cursed with “Baby” in their head for _weeks_ when it first came out.

Niall’s figured out his soulmate is a bit of a songwriter, actually. There have been multiple occasions where Niall’s had a song sporadically popping into his head for days only to not be able to find any trace of it on the internet, which leads him to believe that his soulmate wrote the song themselves. If that makes Niall play his guitar a little more often and try his hand at writing a bit, no one else has to know. He made the mistake of telling Liam once while plastered, but Liam’s the kind of asshole who purposefully sings “Dick in a Box” to try to get it into his soulmate’s head, so Niall doesn’t take Liam’s teasing too seriously.

“ _F_ _or your eyes only_ ,” Niall croons softly to himself over a pot of boiling water as he stirs in some pasta, “ _I show you my heart_.  _For when you’re lonely, and forget who you are_ …”

“You’ve been singing that for weeks, mate,” Liam complains from his spot on a stool at their breakfast bar.

“It’s  _stuck in my head_ , Liam,” Niall counters. “Can’t help it.”

“Tell your soulmate to sing something less sappy, then.”

“How do you expect me to do that?”

“Sing some suggestions for them!”

Niall rolls his eyes and continues making their very simple dinner of spaghetti and garlic bread. “I put up with you humming “Hey There Delilah” for months.”

Liam frowns, unfortunately remembering that era. “Touché.”

“ _Hey there, Delilah, what’s it like in New York City?_ ” sings Niall jokingly, flashing a cheeky grin at his flatmate. Liam groans in response and covers his ears.

***

“ _Oh, it’s what you do to me_ …” Harry sings absent-mindedly, sat on Louis’ couch and scrolling through Twitter hashtags.

“Fuck off,” Louis grumbles. “If you’ve got that fucking video on your phone…”

Harry looks up, dazed and not completely sure what he’s being threatened for. “What?”

“It’s been _years_ , and you’re still taking the piss about my Plain White Tees phase,” says Louis frustratedly, throwing his hands up.

“No, it’s just-- It’s stuck in my head, Lou,” Harry explains. “Didn’t realize I was singing along. Sorry.”

“Your soulmate can go fuck themselves.”

“I think that’s supposed to be my job,” Harry can’t help but reply, a sucker for dirty jokes.

“Your job is _supposed_ to be picking a single,” Louis glares pointedly at the younger man.

Harry shrugs with a sheepish smile. He knows Louis’ been pulling more strings than he should to give Harry more time to be indecisive; it’s just that he doesn’t want to pick the _wrong_ song and forever doom himself to a short-lived career that didn’t even really get started. He’d been so excited to get signed and approved for a real, professionally-produced album--it would be terrible to finally release a single into the world and have everyone hate his music. All of Harry’s songs are precious to him; none of them seem fit to be released to the cold, cruel world of comment sections and snarky reviews.

“Look,” Louis sits up straighter, “why don’t you pick “If I Could Fly”? It’s your favorite and anyone can tell it really means something to you. People will connect to it--the emotion and all that.”

“But it’s--That’s personal, Lou. I can’t like...make money off of my soulmate before I’ve even met them.”

“You’re going to anyway,” the shorter points out. “Almost every song on that album is about them.”

Harry knows Louis has a point, of course, but he’s still hesitant. “If I Could Fly” is just _more_ to Harry, the lyrics he wrote almost _too_ close to his heart. He hadn’t even been sure he wanted it on the album at all. He hoped, though, that the days of singing it over and over to finalize the melody and record it were enough to make it to his soulmate’s head. He wanted them to know what he was feeling before anyone else, more so than anyone else, hence the line “ _f_ _or your eyes only_.”

“I don’t know…”

***

Unlike Liam, who gets anal retentive about being late and starts cursing out whatever’s delaying him, Niall doesn’t mind a little traffic slowing down his daily commute. It lets him have some time to wake up in the morning, drink his coffee, listen to the radio. He doesn’t really want to listen to endless commercials and morning talk shows, though, so he flips through the stations until he finds one playing actual music, and hopefully good music at that.

“-- _attention, I hope that you listen, ‘cause I let my guard down_ \--”

Niall freezes. His finger hovers in mid-air, stopped from continuing his radio station crawl. His jaw has dropped comically, his eyes wide, as he listens to a _very familiar_ song play. Horns start blaring from behind him as he doesn’t move forward when the light turns green, but Niall doesn’t really even register where he is anymore.

“ _I’m missing half of me_ ,” Niall mouths along stupidly with the lyrics he became acquainted with nearly three months ago, “ _when we’re apart_... _Now you know me, for your eyes only_.”

The voice on the radio is deep and raspy and Niall’s never heard it before in his life. He _knows_ he hasn’t, can’t have. He doesn’t even know for sure if this is his soulmate or not but he wants it to be because the man sounds sexy and sincere and almost sad. Niall wants to find him and hold him until they’re both emotionally stable and hear that voice in person, singing all the songs he’s stuck Niall with over the years.

He doesn’t know how exactly he makes it home, and his boss is probably going to yell at him for skipping work, but Niall doesn’t care all that much. As soon as he’s through his front door, he immediately dives for his laptop, sitting innocuously on the coffee table.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants as his web browser doesn’t load fast enough for him and then his fingers don’t seem to want to hit the right keys and what should have been “for your eyes only” ends up looking like “foiry iue eyuwd on;t.”

Niall takes a deep, shaky breath and painstakingly re-types his search, one careful letter at a time. He assumes that two lines of the lyrics should be enough to get the results he’s looking for, but he’d be willing to learn Chinese and transcribe the entire thing in that if he had to. Luckily, he does indeed find the song he’s looking for immediately.

“‘If I Could Fly,’” he reads over the silence of his flat and the frantic beating of his heart, “by Harry Styles.”

Harry Styles--Harry _Edward_ Styles, a tiny Wikipedia article informs him--is 22, British, needs a haircut, and is unfairly attractive. There aren’t that many good photos of him, unfortunately, as he’s apparently new to the music scene, but what little there is is enough to convince Niall the universe must be joking if this gorgeous man is supposed to be _his_ soulmate.

He sees a video titled “Harry Styles on The Radio 1 Breakfast Show with Nick Grimshaw” and clicks it without completely deciding to.

“Tell me about your song, “If I Could Fly,”” the radio host demands kindly, leaning his forearms comfortably on the table in front of him and looking over at his guest. “It’s smashing the charts right now. I love it.”

Harry ducks his head a little and smiles gratefully, fiddling with the plastic water bottle provided for him. Niall does not pause the video and stare at the man’s hands; that would be creepy.

“Thank you. I didn’t like...expect such a positive response.” Harry’s voice is low and unhurried, his accent distinguished.

“Now, it’s a love song,” Grimshaw states, looking at Harry for confirmation.

“It’s mostly a love song,” Harry offers.

“ _Mostly_ a love song?”

“It’s also like, a bit about finding yourself and what makes you happy...That can be with another person, like a romantic interest, or it could be with someone else... or maybe a place…” he rambles, trying to get his complex point across.

“Right, well, I think it’s a just love song, mate,” Grimmy laughs and Harry smiles good-naturedly. “So is it for someone special? Have you met your soulmate yet?”

Niall holds his breath.

The singer shakes his head. “No, I haven’t met them.”

“Well you might do soon! You’ll be singing a lot more often now, I think.”

“If they’re not already sick of the song, they will be soon,” Harry agrees with a small smirk.

“Want to tell me something about them? A Breakfast Show exclusive? What does Harry Styles’ soulmate sing? A bit of rap? Metal? Show tunes?”

Harry chuckles and leans toward his mic, dimples out in full force and making Niall want to swoon like a schoolgirl.

“I woke up every morning for weeks with Taylor Swift’s “Shake it Off” in my head,” Harry reveals conspiratorially. “I think they were singing it in the shower. I was worried they might like, dance along and slip.”

Niall blushes darkly, remembering his shower concerts when the single had been released (and how he did, actually, lose his footing and fall that one time and found himself with a nasty bruise on his bum for a while).

“That doesn’t narrow it down much, mate,” Nick complains teasingly. “I bet loads of people out there shook it off in the shower.”

That makes Niall pause the video, the image stuck on Harry mid-shrug. Just because Niall heard “If I Could Fly” before it was released doesn’t _necessarily_ mean that Harry is his soulmate, does it? There could be other explanations: maybe his soulmate wrote the song with Harry, or produced it and had to sing it to demonstrate which notes Harry should go higher on or let fade out. Maybe his soulmate played the violin for the single and enjoyed the lyrics as well. Maybe his soulmate wrote the song and had it stolen from them, and Niall will later be called to testify in court on behalf of his destined life partner as proof that the song predated Harry Styles getting his hands on it. He’d jumped on the first, most obvious possibility, but what if he was _wrong_? He couldn’t very well tell Harry Styles they were soulmates and then find out it wasn’t true.

Niall decides he has to know for sure. He has to be one hundred percent certain before he tries to get in contact with Harry (which is a separate hurdle that he will have to deal with when he gets to it).

***

“So I’m going to put some of your tweets up, and I want you to explain them,” Ellen tells Harry, holding her cue cards at the ready.

Harry smiles and nods for her to go on, surprisingly comfortable with the ribbing he knows he’s about to get. He’s being interviewed by _Ellen DeGeneres_ , and somehow he’s not all that nervous about it. He’s confident and he hopes he comes off as a likable person because he’d like to do this again.

“Guess who’s back, back again,” Ellen reads as the tweet in question shows on the screen behind them. “Boots are back, tell a friend.”

“I really like boots,” Harry replies with a dimpled smile, kicking out one of his feet to emphasize his footwear. “And I wore one pair to death and then bought a new one.”

Ellen and the audience laugh and the host then flips to the next card. “Never make eye contact with anyone while eating a banana.”

“A valuable life lesson.”

“Guess you heard the interview. Please shake cautiously. All the love. H.”

Harry holds back his sigh. When the segment was first pitched to him for his approval, he’d assumed (correctly, he now knows) that this was the ultimate end goal. He isn’t upset about it, doesn’t really mind, but there is a small part of him that doesn’t want his relationship (or lack thereof) with his soulmate to be the focus of every interview he has this promotional season. Part of that hesitance stems from him not knowing how his other half feels about it. He wouldn’t want them to feel like he was exploiting or embarrassing them.

“I was on the Radio 1 Breakfast Show a while ago,” Harry begins.

“With Nick Grimshaw,” Ellen supplies.

“Yes. And Grimmy asked me what my soulmate likes to sing. I told him about their “Shake it Off” phase. I guess they like...heard my answer, and have been singing the song again for a few days to get back at me.”

“And ‘shake cautiously’?”

“I don’t want them to hurt themselves...and I’ll admit I’m a bit worn out on the song.”

The truth is Harry was ecstatic to have the aforementioned song pop into his head just days after his interview. He deduced that it meant his soulmate knew who he was, or at least had guessed, and that meant it was only a matter of time before they revealed themselves to him. He didn’t know how they were going to do so, hoping only that he would know when the time came because he was already getting an influx of tweets from people claiming to be his soulmate. Harry didn’t like to judge people harshly, but he felt terrible for those people’s actual soulmates, apparently being cast aside for the chance to be with a moderately famous person. He hadn’t made an album to attract anyone, doesn’t expect his soulmate to want to meet him just because he has money and a bit of the spotlight now. He wants to meet them because they’re meant to be together, and if his face on tabloids and his voice on the radio helps them find each other, then it’s just an added bonus.

***

Niall decides, after some deliberation, to do his best to plant songs into his soulmate’s head. If it’s Harry, hopefully he’ll say or tweet something in reference to the songs and then Niall will be reassured. If it’s not...well then, Niall’s not really sure what he’ll do.

He starts with “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” He doesn’t have a good reason for it; the lullaby just came to him as an idea of something one wouldn’t normally sing at his age.

He gets his tweet after five days of singing the song whenever he has a moment alone, not wanting Liam or anyone else to hear him trying to coax a response out of a celebrity who may or may not be his other half.

 

> _@Harry_Styles: How I wonder what you are._

The thing is...what if Harry’s real soulmate has a niece or nephew or godchild or something and they sang a lullaby to them? What if they teach a reception class and were doing music with the little kids? Matching songs one time (alright, two or three times, if Niall includes the “Shake it Off” incidents) could just be a fluke. He can’t settle for one success.

Niall picks the Irish national anthem next, although he supposes perhaps a song in another language may not be helpful for getting Harry to recognize and mention it. It could be difficult for him (again, assuming he’s even Niall’s soulmate, which the blond doesn’t want to prematurely do even if his heart rolls its metaphorical eyes) to figure out what he’s listening to in order to clearly reference it in such a way that Niall will know.

 

> _@Harry_Styles: Irish accents are sexy._

> _@Harry_Styles: Had to look up lyrics. Still not sure if they’re right._ _Seo libh canaídh amhrán na bhfiann?_

> _@Harry_Styles: I don’t speak a word of Irish. You’ll have to teach me._

> _@Harry_Styles: I may have to start singing “God Save the Queen.”_

Four tweets within two days? All of which fit perfectly with Niall’s chosen song? That’s enough for him, he’s pretty sure. A tiny bit of his brain still isn’t convinced, insists that it’s still just a coincidence and he can’t be too hasty about these things, but Niall just wants to let himself have a little faith and reach out for the man he’s pretty sure fate has chosen for him.

He’s still not entirely sure how to do that, however. He’s seen hundreds if not thousands of Twitter mentions directed towards Harry from obsessed fans claiming to be his soulmate. How is Niall supposed to stand out as a credible claim?

After a few hours of scouring the internet, Niall has established several facts: 1. Harry’s album track list has not been released in full; 2. There have been no leaks of it yet, at least not as far as he can find; 3. There is therefore no way Niall would know the lyrics to several songs if he were not Harry’s soulmate. His approach is thus simple: tweet Harry his own unreleased lyrics and hope he notices amongst the sea of other messages no doubt flooding his mentions. Niall just counts himself lucky that he has a pretty good memory, especially when it comes to songs

 

> _@NiallOfficial: @Harry_Styles Counted all my mistakes and there’s only one standing out from the list of the things I’ve done_

> _@NiallOfficial: @Harry_Styles We’re only getting older, baby, and I’ve been thinking about it lately. Does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes?_

> _@NiallOfficial: @Harry_Styles Baby, I’ll never leave if you keep holding me this way_

> _@NiallOfficial: @Harry_Styles I just want it to be you and I forever. I know you wanna leave so come on baby be with me so happily_

> _@NiallOfficial: @Harry_Styles If you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms, if you like having secret little rendezvous_

> _@NiallOfficial: @Harry_Styles I want you here with me like how I pictured it, so I don’t have to keep imagining_

He makes sure to sing the songs as well, hoping that if they get stuck in Harry’s head it will make the lyrics stand out to the other man.

Niall gets the notification several days after his campaign begins: _@Harry_Styles is now following you_. He expected it to take far longer or maybe not work at all, so the relatively quick timeframe has Niall bouncing with nervous and excited energy through dinner with Liam.

“What’s gotten into you, mate?” Liam questions after seeing Niall look at his phone for the tenth time in a stretch of no more than two minutes.

“I, uh...I might’ve found my soulmate…?”

Liam drops his forkful of food and stares. “Fuck, are you serious?”

“Yup.”

“That’s brilliant!” Liam stands up and pulls his friend into a tight hug. Niall returns it happily, wondering why he’d been putting off telling Liam at all. “Who is it?”

“His name’s Harry,” Niall replies once they’ve both sat back down. “Harry Styles.”

“That sounds familiar…”

“He’s a singer.”

“Famous?” At Niall’s nod, Liam’s eyes widen again. “Wow, Nialler. Landed a good one, haven’t you?”

The blond glares and kicks him under the table. “He’s my soulmate, Liam. Not a pile of money.”

“I know, but..it’s still pretty cool. How’d you find out?”

“Heard him on the radio. _f I could fly, I’d be coming right back home to you_ ,” Niall sings demonstratively.

“Have you talked to him yet?”

“I sent him some of his lyrics on Twitter and he’s just followed me back.”

“And you’re sitting ‘round here talking with me?” Liam asks dumbfoundedly. “Get in there, mate! Talk to him!”

“I’m...I don’t really know what to say to him,” Niall admits bashfully. “Didn’t expect him to notice me this quickly so I’m not prepared.”

“Just tell him you’ve been hearing his songs all your life and congratulate him on getting them on the radio. Ask him out. Invite him to your bed.” Liam wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Fuck off,” Niall says without heat.

He abandons the rest of his meal and takes his phone with him back to his room. The message button looks more intimidating than it should. He’s just about to work up the courage to hit it when he’s notified of an incoming message. Niall lets out a sigh of relief, seeing that he doesn’t have to make both the first and the second moves.

 

> _Hi, Niall. I’m Harry. You seem to know an awful lot of my song lyrics...Do you by any chance like The Eagles, Justin Bieber, and Taylor Swift? I think there was a boyband phase in there somewhere as well...Westlife, maybe?_

Niall types and retypes his reply. Nothing he writes seems to come out correctly. He wants to come off as a put-together, friendly, easy-going sort of person, someone who can have a conversation with someone he knows will inevitably like him. Everything he comes up with feels like it gives away all of his anxiety and insecurity and lingering fear that somehow, some way, he’s managed to be wrong.

 

> _Hi Harry. Only if you like Kodaline, The Rolling Stones, Augustana, and a load of other obscure songs I had never heard of until you got them stuck in my head._

That sounds lame, doesn’t it? Niall wishes he could take it back and write something more...intelligent, at the very least, but Harry’s already replied:

 

> _:)_

A smiley face? Niall can’t believe his asshole of a soulmate chose to respond with a single smiley face, not even a word but a cliché emoticon--

 

> _Your bio says you live in London. Would you like to get coffee sometime? This weekend?_

It’s Thursday. “This weekend” would mean in a day or two. Is Niall ready to see Harry in person that soon? Can he possibly survive if he _doesn’t_?

 

> _Do you have a place in mind? I’m free Saturday._

Even if he hadn’t been free, he would’ve dropped everything to make their...date? Is it a date? Niall knows most soulmates end up in a romantic relationship but what if he and Harry are those rare pairs that don’t? Obviously he can settle for friendship if that’s what’s destined for them but he kind of wants to kiss the man senseless and be grossly domestic with him.

 

> _Let me get you the address. Is 10 too early?_

***

Niall doesn’t sleep on Friday night. He can’t; there are too many thoughts running through his head and they’re all about Harry and him and _himandHarry_. When he pulls himself out of bed on Saturday morning after restless hours of tossing around in his thoughts, he can’t help but sing in the shower to try to calm himself down.

“ _I_ _can feel your heart inside of mine--I feel it, I feel it. I’ve been going out of my mind--I feel it, I feel it. Know that I’m just wasting time and I hope that you don’t run from me_ …”

Liam gives him a knowing look when he steps out of the bathroom. Niall shrugs and continues on, soothed by the song in a way that would make him blush if Harry ever found out (which he probably had, knowing Niall’s luck).

He picks simple but nice clothes: a striped t-shirt, unripped black jeans, brown suede boots that he hopes Harry will appreciate. From what he’s seen of the other man’s wardrobe from interviews over the past few weeks, Harry’s a bit more out there with his fashion choices. Niall doesn’t mind, but he still resolutely sticks to plain clothes for himself on the off chance that he’ll commit some fashion faux-pas and his soulmate will find a way to deny fate and denounce him.

He’s fifteen minutes early when he finally makes it to the tiny cafe Harry had selected for their meeting. Niall expected to have to wait around awkwardly, but instead he walks in the door and immediately spots a head of shaggy brown curls he’s grown familiar with recently. Harry is facing the doorway and stands up with a big grin as soon as he sees Niall making his way over.

“It’s you,” he says into Niall’s ear as he gathers the blond in his arms.

Niall lets himself bury his face in the taller man’s neck and feel like he’s come home.


End file.
